


Blush

by GallicGalaxy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Boot Worship, Crossdressing, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5074309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallicGalaxy/pseuds/GallicGalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Waylon learns his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blush

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Waylon Park Being Emasculated: The Fanfiction  
> Subtitled 'The Sexual Version of Eddie Gluskin's Kill Sequence'  
> I promised more Eddie/Waylon smut, and this time it's kinky. Don't worry, there is sex in there eventually  
> The ending idek I wrote the last of this in a sleep-deprived haze and am uploading it in the same haze so this might not make any sense

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Eddie's voice was heavy with lust and tight with just a touch of what sounded like compressed anger, the flavor of dry discontent. Waylon could only look bashfully up at Eddie, his face flushed to the same shade of pale pink as his dress and his knees aching against the hard floor.

“Either my eyes deceive me...” Eddie continued, taking a few slow steps around Waylon in a circling pattern. Waylon rotated his wrists a little in a feeble attempt to keep them from cramping up in their tightly-bound position. Eddie was just a bit _too_ good with knots. “Or this...” Eddie murmured, a tiny smirk etched on the side of his distorted face. “Happens to be the dirty little whore I dare call my own.”

“It just might be.” Waylon grunted softly, his voice not reaching any semblance of normal volume. Eddie wrapped his massive hand around Waylon's jaw, forcibly raising Waylon's gaze to the level of his own. Waylon felt his heart race a little, taking in the way the dim light accentuated all the minute intricacies of Eddie's face, and feeling the burning glow of those bright blue eyes on his skin.

Eddie stroked Waylon's scruff with his thumb, almost as though he was trying to lessen the threat of clutching Waylon by the throat. After a few moments of intimidation, Eddie pulled Waylon forward and kissed him – but it was a hungry, overpowering kiss, more of aggression than affection. He loosened his hold on Waylon's jaw, using his hand to caress Waylon's neck instead.

“You've been a bad girl, haven't you?” Eddie growled, his hot breath clinging like mist to Waylon's face. Waylon knew it was pointless to bother with an answer as soon as he heard the soft _shick_ of Eddie drawing his knife from his belt. Waylon wasn't frightened; he highly doubted Eddie meant to use it in any sort of dangerous manner, and he would stop if Waylon told him to.

With one hand cradling the side of Waylon's face, Eddie lifted his thin knife and pressed it against the opposite cheek, just precisely hard enough for Waylon to feel it break through the outer layer of his skin. “Haven't you?” Eddie repeated, his teeth gritted tightly.

“Yes.” Waylon gasped, instinctively leaning his head away from the knife and finding only more of Eddie in the other direction. “Yes, I have. I've been a...a _bad girl_.” He huffed, flustered, and he felt the sharp prick of pain against his cheek intensify.

“Like you mean it.” Eddie growled, tightening his fingers around the side of Waylon's head ever-so-slightly. After a moment, he bared his teeth and chose to add, “ _Slut_.” for emphasis.

“Slut...” Waylon repeated, his lips twitching as he attempted to form words. “Yeah, I'm a slut. A dirty, dirty whore...”

“Look at me when you're talking to me.” Eddie snarled, leaning forward to overshadow Waylon's meek figure. He shifted the angle of his knife, tearing the skin just enough to initiate a slow trickle of blood from the cut. Waylon connected his gaze with Eddie's, strongly resisting the urge to look away immediately. He dared not move, for fear of widening the cut on his cheek more than was necessary. “Now, what was that?” Eddie demanded, his cruel smirk beginning to return.

“I'm a slut.” Waylon panted desperately. “A filthy, nasty slut.”

“That was good.” Eddie purred. “I want more.” He changed the angle of the knife again, urging it to point upward more than sideways, which made it sting like a motherfucker. Waylon struggled to keep his body from trembling in the face of simulated danger.

“Ah, you know, don't you?” Waylon whispered, his eyelids fluttering as he stared into Eddie's forcefully bright eyes. “I'm a whore. I'm so easy...So hungry. I'm a bad, naughty girl.”

“That's more like it.” Eddie hissed. “But I know you can do better.” He twitched his knife again, sending a few minuscule drops of blood running down Waylon's face.

“I'm a cock-starved slut.” Waylon spat eagerly, flexing his wrists against the rope that fixed them in place. “A greedy little whore, right?”

“Ooh, now say cock-starved one more time...” Eddie ordered, his smile parting to reveal his teeth as he idly rubbed Waylon's hair with his free hand. Waylon's knees began to tense with the pressure of being forced against the stiff wood floor, but he just bit his lip and endured.

“I'm a _cock-starved_ slut.” Waylon whispered, almost taunting Eddie with how slowly he spoke. Eddie made an indistinct purring noise in the back of his throat before he finally retracted his knife and let go of Waylon's head.

Waylon hadn't recalled holding his breath, but he took a few deep, desperate gasps of air as soon as he was released. Eddie laid his knife across the palm of his hand and, with one smooth, swift stroke, he drew it along his glove, wiping the scant trail of blood away with ease. This motion made Waylon shudder as if the knife had been scraped into his very flesh.

Each breath Waylon took made his entire body quiver, panting deeply as he watched Eddie rise to his feet. That little stunt had probably been done for the sole purpose of stoking Eddie's erection, which now threatened to break its way through the front of his pants.

“You like what you see, slut?” Eddie asked with an evil little chuckle, setting his knife to the side. He rested his hands on his belt, cocking his head as he watched Waylon writhe in his bonds. Once he'd made sure that his question had been appropriately torturous, he unfastened his belt with an agonizing lack of haste.

Eddie's belt hit the floor with a soft clink, but Waylon's eyes were still locked onto Eddie's hands. Waylon shuffled on his knees slightly, redistributing his weight anxiously as he waited for Eddie's next move. Eddie chuckled a little at his own malice, but nonetheless proceeded to draw out his impressive erection, which incited a pathetic little whimper of eagerness from his detained lover.

“Eddie...” Waylon panted, shifting uncomfortably due to the warmth kindling beneath his flowering skirt. It was just short enough to make Waylon feel slightly exposed when sitting on his knees, just a little bit dirtier. He watched with gritted teeth and blown pupils as Eddie pumped his massive cock. Waylon's mouth hung open, and Eddie's sadistic smile burst into bloom. Even if Waylon closed his eyes to block out the temptation, he could still hear the unsatisfying smack. What torture.

“I'll tell you what...” Eddie began, in a low, smooth voice. “If you're an extra good girl for me...” Waylon stared up at him expectantly, straightening his back as though posture would earn him a bonus of some sort. “I'll let you have it.” Waylon nodded vigorously, his legs pulsing with tension from his sore knees and hardening cock. “That sounds good to me.” Eddie laughed, in a barbaric sort of way. After a final moment of savoring his freedom, Eddie took a deep breath, swelling his monstrous chest, and tucked his erection back into its original stifling position.

Waylon swallowed hard, wondering what sort of endless tortures Eddie had in store for him. Eddie grunted uncomfortably once he'd re-fastened his pants, which were clearly not meant to accommodate an erection the size of his.

“What do you want then, big boy?” Waylon requested submissively. Eddie responded only by lifting his foot and gradually sinking it into the folds of Waylon's skirt so that it was perfectly perched on his groin, painfully pushing down his half-hard cock.

“Eddie!” Waylon squealed, pulling violently at his bindings in an attempt to resist the pressure bearing down on his sensitive genitals. Waylon shrunk a little, looking up without moving his head, and sank his teeth into his soft bottom lip. Eddie was still wearing that tyrannical mockery of a lopsided smile, rocking his heel ever-so-slightly into Waylon's crotch. Waylon wasn't meant to protest; that would decrease his chances of receiving his reward.

“That doesn't hurt too much, does it?” Eddie asked, in a voice so genuine it set Waylon aback for a moment.

“Uhh, no. Not really.” Waylon whimpered, avoiding eye contact and trying to contain his breathing. Eddie examined his glove casually as he began to step down harder. Waylon kept his lip tucked between his teeth in order to keep himself quiet, which served its purpose. It was only a short time until Waylon started shrinking back almost uncontrollably, starting to pull his wrists and twitch his legs even though it wouldn't serve to help at all.

He knew that was what Eddie wanted. Just to make him writhe a little, maybe beg if he was lucky. Waylon was already starting to squirm, every tiny increase in pressure or change in angle making it even worse. “Can you handle that, darling?” Eddie teased.

Waylon opened his mouth to say 'yes', but as soon as he loosened his hold on his lip, a loud whimper of restless agony tore itself free from his throat without his consent. “No, no.” Waylon mumbled, though whether it was an answer or some irrelevant lament was uncertain.

Eddie eventually lifted his foot, letting Waylon breathe freely once again. But not a moment afterwards he pushed the same foot against Waylon's chest, shoving his unbalanced body over and leaving him in an utterly vulnerable position. He pressed his foot there for a moment, a silent assertion of his control, before he removed it and took a single stride to Waylon's side.

Waylon couldn't really keep himself from panicking a little – After all, he was pretty much as vulnerable as he could be, with the weakest and most crucial points on his body exposed and his arms, basically his only form of defense, pinned under him. It was just a matter of trusting Eddie at this point.

Apparently the only thing on his agenda was making sure that Waylon paid appropriate respect to his shoes. He raised his foot again, leisurely, giving Waylon a nice view for a moment before the bottom of Eddie's shoe landed on his face. He managed to place it firmly on the right side of Waylon's face, opposite his cut.

Waylon made no sound except for fervent breathing. All he could do was watch Eddie smile sternly and press his foot down, harder and harder, leaving a small imprint on Waylon's grizzled young face. He was a bit gentler that time for some reason, likely a bit more worried about damaging Waylon's unprotected face, and he grew bored of this game much faster. “Hmm, you want some more of that?” Eddie murmured, pressing the tip of his shoe to Waylon's chin and lifting it. Waylon attempted a smile, waiting a second before Eddie grabbed him by the neckline of his dress and lifted him back to his knees.

“Hmph.” Eddie scoffed. He proceeded to tap each of Waylon's knees with his corresponding shoe, smirking naughtily again. Eddie kneeled down in front of Waylon, still towering over him, and wrapped his hulking arms around Waylon's back. Waylon's blush renewed itself to a soft rosy hue as he felt Eddie's hands travel down along his arms and toy with his bindings, shivering in anticipation at the thought of what Eddie would do with him once he was released. “I'll unbind your hands for you, dear...” Eddie purred, slowly starting to untie the rope around Waylon's wrists.

“What's the catch?” Waylon asked, knowing very well that Eddie was never so benevolent in these situations unless he was going to get something out of it.

“Oh, you're clever...” Eddie clicked, cocking his head and smiling. “For a whore.” He ran his fingers through Waylon's hair, looking down at him lustily. “Alright, you've got me, I guess. I'll untie you...if you lick my shoes clean.” He hissed, roughly stripping away Waylon's bonds. He tossed Waylon to the ground, standing up in the wake of his assault and putting his hands on his hips expectantly. “Get to it, slut.” He ordered, gritting his teeth. Waylon stared up at Eddie meekly, crouching down on his hands and knees.

He opened his mouth and began tentatively stroking the exterior of Eddie's left shoe with his tongue, keeping his eyes down and his posture submissive. “There you go...” Eddie grunted. “Now, make sure you get it _clean_.” He warned, keeping his hands on his hips and watching Waylon with sharp intensity.

Waylon dared not speak. He licked Eddie's shoe as quickly as possible, trying to make sure that he did a good enough job to please Eddie while trying to get this over with and towards sweet release as quickly as he could.

“Good girl.” Eddie purred, gently rubbing his own inner thigh, trying to restrain himself. Waylon squeaked quietly and tried to lick around the back of Eddie's heel, his hands grasping desperately at nothing. “Yeah, there's a good girl.” Eddie hissed through his teeth, thumbing at his erection and panting. Waylon pulled back a little, glancing up at Eddie balefully for a moment, but quickly deciding that it was in his best interest to move on to the other shoe instead of waiting for a command.

He could hear Eddie pawing at his erection, trying desperately to keep it in his pants, and grunting softly from the effort it took to restrain himself. Waylon wanted Eddie to pleasure himself to this. He wanted to hear it, Eddie stroking himself and moaning in pleasure while he watched Waylon kiss his feet. Waylon squeaked a moan out around his tongue at the thought. He whimpered, balling up his fists and pressing his knuckles into the floor.

“Oh, so well-behaved...” Eddie panted tightly, curling his thumb around his erection. Waylon's last few tentative licks were erratic and uneven; he was barely able to keep his focus. He leaned back, breathing hard, and blinked his baleful eyes expectantly.

Eddie nudged him back, surveying his feet, and smiled a little. “Good.” He declared. “Good...”

“Eddie, can I...please...” Waylon begged in a semi-intelligible mumble.

“Speak up.” Eddie demanded. “Tell me what you want.” Waylon cleared his throat, laying his hands on his knees to keep them out of his way.

“Will you let me have it now, please?” Waylon pleaded, with a bat of his eyelashes.

“You want it now?” Eddie huffed, still endlessly taunting Waylon. He was rubbing at his stiff cock, wanting desperately to get off, but debating whether or not it was worth it to keep taunting Waylon. “Alright, alright.” He stated at last.

He drew out his erection again, sighing in relief and stroking himself lavishly. Waylon gritted his teeth, his cock throbbing almost in time with the rhythm of Eddie stroking himself. He pushed his hands against Eddie's legs, opening his mouth and panting deeply.

“So _eager_.” Eddie noted. He let go of his cock, slowly, gently, cupping his other hand around the back of Waylon's head. “Go on, you little slut. It's all yours.”

Waylon didn't hesitate. He wrapped his trembling lips around the head of Eddie's cock, sliding his tongue underneath it. Eddie purred, clearly pleased, and caressed Waylon's hair with his thumb. “Yes, darling. Oh, you're being such a good girl for me.” He praised. “Don't be shy, now.” Waylon moaned to himself as he swallowed the first inch of Eddie's thick cock, tenderly caressing the underside of it with his tongue. Waylon purred quietly, swirling his tongue around the head of Eddie's cock and teasing his foreskin.

“There we are.” Eddie encouraged. “You know what you're doing, don't you? Yes, of course you do.” He ran his fingers through Waylon's hair, very gently, very softly, in contrast with his previous roughness. Waylon accepted his praise by continuing to toy with Eddie's foreskin, flicking it with the very tip of his tongue. He knew Eddie loved it, and a happy Eddie meant a happy Waylon. Waylon made a tiny, withheld noise: a nearly silent expression of love, and of hunger. He wrapped one of his hands around the base of Eddie's shaft; Eddie was far too pleased to reprimand him for doing so without command.

“Oh, Waylon, love...” Eddie moaned, playing with Waylon's hair. He breathed a gentle chuckle, each note channeling into Waylon's pounding cock. He was aching, his skirt fluttering, hands fiddling with the fabric of Eddie's clothing. Eddie's erection throbbed relentlessly against Waylon's tongue, filling his mouth as wholly as possible. Waylon's chest was heaving with every breath now, eyes closing uncomfortably as he strove to swallow more.

But never enough. There was just too much, and Waylon couldn't take it. Eddie pressed his palm against the back of Waylon's head, silently urging him to do exactly that. Waylon panted through his nose and sucked back, hoping it was a good enough trick, but knowing it wouldn't be.

He loosened his jaw as much as possible, which he'd already been trying to do in order to keep his teeth out of the way. He didn't know if he could relax much more, but he'd try.

His entire body shivered as he gagged, lungs freezing. He wrenched his head away from Eddie's member as quickly as possible, still panting roughly. Waylon turned his eyes down, bit his lip, and waited to be scolded.

“Oh, you poor dear...” Eddie purred. Waylon couldn't quite tell yet whether he was being condescending or not.

“Eddie, I'm sorry.” Waylon began to beg. “I-I didn't mean to.” Of course he hadn't meant to gag. Nobody did so intentionally. “It's just...you're so big.” Waylon mumbled, knowing that a little flattery couldn't hurt.

“Well, I didn't figure on finishing like that, anyway.” Eddie half-sighed, his tone indecipherable. He finally glanced down at Waylon with a tiny grin. “I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't make you come first.” Eddie rubbed the underside of Waylon's chin with a few of his fingers, his charming little grin widening. Waylon hummed quietly when he heard Eddie talk about coming, about making him come. Not even _letting_ him come, but _making_ him.

Eddie gently pushed Waylon aside, striding past him and towards the little chair he'd readied for some unknown purpose prior to tying Waylon up in the first place. With his back towards Waylon, he could be heard shifting his member back into his pants once more, and hopefully for the last time until he finished. Waylon slowly rose to his feet, waiting to do anything else until Eddie told him to.

Eddie sat down, cleanly and elegantly, betraying no sign of his inner desire. He turned his chin up slightly, his smile dissolving into a stern look. “Waylon,” He began, with a deep breath that indicated he was about to issue a crucial command. “Take off your panties.”

A jolt raced up Waylon's spine, stopping at his shoulders and triggering a pleased shudder. Eddie sounded so beautiful when he said things like that, so beautiful it was nearly impossible to refuse.

Waylon cleared his throat gently, running his hands up his thighs and teasing his skirt up just to the point where he could loop his thumbs inside the lacey edges of his underwear. He began to pull them down, letting his skirt gradually sink back into place. He could tell without looking that Eddie was watching intently, eyes shining with satisfaction. Waylon avoided his eyes, leaning over as he slid his panties down to his ankles.

Once his panties were hanging loosely against the floor, he righted himself, and folded his arms in front of his groin, attempting to conceal the blush-colored tent his erection had pitched in his skirt.

“Ohh, _good girl_.” Eddie purred deeply. “Now come over here and sit on my lap.” Waylon felt his cheeks develop a heavy, lusty redness as he slowly strode over to Eddie and sat self-consciously on his lap, facing him.

Eddie snapped his fingers briskly. “Lay _across_ my lap.” He commanded, apparently having changed his mind. Waylon swallowed hard, letting his feet touch the floor again. He turned and laid his body as perfectly as possible over Eddie's legs. He knew very well what the purpose of this was; all he could do was prepare for it.

“This was a hard decision, dear.” Eddie crooned. “You have been a good girl, after all, but a little...reminder of your place never hurt. And I know you like it anyway.”

Waylon made an indistinct noise, stifling the fact that he did like it.

“I'll make it brief, darling.” Eddie assured him one last time. Waylon felt Eddie's powerful hands start to roll his skirt up, clear over his exposed ass. Eddie stroked his powerful hands over Waylon's tender, delicate ass, caressing his cheeks and chuckling devilishly to himself.

“Oh, just do it.” Waylon whimpered impatiently.

“Ooh, so hasty.” Eddie hissed. “Be careful, darling. Patience is a virtue, you know.” Waylon blushed a little more and adjusted his position. Whining would probably only draw out the torment. Not the torment of being spanked, but the torment of having to wait even longer to _have_ Eddie, to be one with him. Waylon clenched his fists at the mere thought.

His train of pleasant thought was interrupted by the harsh smack of Eddie's hand against his ass. Waylon emitted a loud, hard-edged cry of surprise.

“You weren't quite prepared for that one, were you?” Eddie chuckled tauntingly. Waylon grunted softly in response, pulling at the neckline of his dress.

And another one. A swift, well-placed smack, just as powerful as the first one. Waylon felt the jolt race clear up his spine. He whimpered again, responding to this by biting down on his lip to keep himself quiet. He told himself that Eddie wouldn't draw it out for too long. He didn't need to.

A few smacks from Eddie's massive hands would be equivalent to about ten times the same amount from a regular person. He didn't even bother to hold back, striking with nearly all the strength he possessed each and every time.

He fell into a taunting rhythm, lingering for a moment after his hand fell on Waylon's vulnerable ass to let the sting set in, then bringing it back down the moment before the ensuing relief set in. Waylon bit down on his own index finger, still trying to stifle the amalgam of sounds that were threatening to escape from his lungs. His entire body was aching for release, for the sweet rhythm of Eddie pushing into him, and pounding with an unsatisfying, burning heat every single time Eddie spanked him.

Every moment Waylon thought it might be over, Eddie followed through again. His only solace was that Eddie was also desperate, and he wanted it easily as bad as Waylon did. He could only hold out for so long. Waylon chewed at his finger, closing his eyes and absorbing the rhythm, the resounding smack, the shock of the impact, and the blissful second of silence before Eddie bore down on him again.

“Oh, Eddie, please!” Waylon cried abruptly, dreading to think about how red his sore ass was already. Easily as red as his face.

“Are you...alright?” Eddie panted, halting immediately. He clearly thought Waylon was in pain, that he was crying for Eddie to stop.

“Ohh, I need you.” Waylon begged, inhaling deeply. “I need you...inside me.”

“I suppose you've been waiting for quite a long while by now, haven't you?” Eddie murmured, gently pressing one of his fingers against Waylon's entrance. Waylon whined impatiently, arching eagerly towards Eddie's hands.

Eddie retracted his hand for a moment, presumably to get his fingers coated in a nice layer of spit before he pushed them into Waylon's ass. Waylon moaned in anticipation.

He felt Eddie's index finger press against his entrance once more, following through this time by pushing it in. Waylon sank his teeth back into his lip. He could barely keep up the patience to hold out through this, and it was only because he knew how much more agony he would be in if he wasn't prepared.

Eddie knew how eager he was, but his fingering was helping to tide Waylon over a little. It wasn't quite what he wanted, but it could suffice for the moment. He could hold out for just a little longer, just until he was ready.

“Eddie, please, h-hurry...” Waylon wailed, his opening tightening around Eddie's fingers as he scissored them gently.

“Still so hasty, are we?” Eddie murmured deviously. “Ah, don't worry, my dear. We'll be there...” He paused and slowly, agonizingly, slid a third finger in alongside the others. “Very soon.” Waylon whined again, a high-pitched, drawn-out noise, an expression of desperation.

He gritted his teeth, letting Eddie keep going, knowing how close they were. He only let his jaw muscles slacken when he felt Eddie draw his fingers out, at which point he exhaled a melodious sigh of excitement.

Eddie braced his hands against Waylon's hips, shifting his weight over and practically tossing him to the ground. Waylon balled his fists, face towards the floor. He heard Eddie draw out his massive, tense cock, and in a moment he felt it press against his entrance and shove into him. Waylon moaned loudly, aggressively, shoving the heels of his palms against the floor. Eddie's hands took their place on his waist once more, gripping Waylon tightly as though he needed to hold him down.

“Oh, yes.” Waylon gasped, his eager muscles going slack with relief. He let his head fall again, face towards the floor, and felt Eddie's fingers pass through his hair.

“You like that, whore?” Eddie murmured lowly, panting as he thrust fiercely into Waylon's weak body. “Oh, of course you do.” He purred, rubbing Waylon's hair again. He was clearly pleased by how helpless he'd rendered Waylon, how slack his body had gone and how utterly he was surrendering himself. Waylon couldn't even protest, he had given over complete control and it didn't matter because of how utterly blissful he felt.

He arched his lower back, trying to urge Eddie deeper already. The anticipation he'd felt made it seem even better, even more delicious. Eddie slowed down a little, withdrawing his previous enthusiastic aggression for the apparent purpose of teasing Waylon.

“Eddie...Eddie...” Waylon panted, gingerly lifting his head, eyes closed with warm, unspoken pleasure, his hot blush as vibrant as ever.

“Hmm, I feel as though I may have been a little... _overzealous_ there.” Eddie murmured, a touch of taunting cruelty in his voice that made Waylon's fists clench again.

“N-no such thing...” Waylon panted raggedly, his narrow chest fluttering as he struggled to regain his breath.

“Oh, but of course there is.” Eddie replied, gripping Waylon's ass tightly and grunting as he forced himself to hold back. “I've teased you now. You know what's coming and you'll try to...force it out of me before you need it.”

“But I _do_ need it.” Waylon huffed. His cock was throbbing so powerfully he felt like his veins would burst, and the sensation of Eddie's nails digging into the flesh that was still ringing from being spanked was coming close to making his eyes water. Eddie slowed his rhythm to a few slow, shallow thrusts, most likely indicating that he was about to stop.

“Eddie...don't stop, love.” Waylon pleaded nervously.

“Hmm, I wouldn't, but I want to move you.” Eddie consoled, rubbing Waylon's shoulders as he braced himself to pull out. Waylon's hands were wracked with spasms the moment Eddie withdrew, subconsciously longing to return to that gorgeous unity.

“Just relax, darling.” Eddie said softly. He caressed Waylon's sides through the thin fabric of his dress while he mulled over what to do to him. He could prop him against the wall and watch as his hands slunk down, his face turned towards the ground, and he slowly surrendered. Or, as was more likely, he would roll Waylon over and arch himself above his lover, so that he could see Waylon's eyes, watch his face contort as he neared his climax; so that when they lost the need for words they could kiss until they found it again.

“Now, would you roll over for me?” Eddie requested, giving Waylon a bit more room. Waylon did as he was bade, smiling uncontrollably once he caught Eddie's eye. Eddie cocked his head thoughtfully, sparing a glance back towards the chair. He smiled a little, a clear sign that he'd already devised something wonderfully torturous. “Over here.” He ordered stiffly. Waylon sat up and shifted himself over, switching places with Eddie, so that his head was angled towards the chair.

Eddie was still grinning slightly as he reached two of his fingers down into his pocket and drew out a length of thin, red rope. He gave it a few tugs to demonstrate its strength. “Hands up.” He commanded, and Waylon knew exactly what position to take. He raised his arms above his head, feeling his wrists collide with the base of the little chair, and looked up at Eddie expectantly. Eddie chuckled darkly and, in a mere moment, had managed to easily bind Waylon's wrists to the leg of his chair. They were slightly raised, giving his upper body a bit more freedom of movement. He gyrated his wrists again, finding his bonds relatively impenetrable.

Waylon smiled subtly. He was impressed by this skill of Eddie's sometimes, his ability to tie such fluent, secure knots.

“This is much better, don't you think?” Eddie mused, poised elegantly above Waylon, gazing down into his eyes as Waylon imagined he would.

“Of course, dear.” Waylon's voice fluttered. Eddie leaned his head down and connected with a kiss: a slow, tender kiss at last, one which made Waylon purr in the back of his throat. He wasn't kissing Waylon like he wanted to devour him, but courting him, silently pronouncing his love.

Eddie kept Waylon's mouth occupied with his own while he stroked his inner thigh with the back of his hand. Waylon moaned into their kiss, rubbing his legs eagerly against Eddie's. Eddie pulled his lips away into an amused smirk. He shifted his hands from Waylon's thighs up to his hips, and righted himself, pushing the head of his cock against Waylon's aching entrance.

Said sensation triggered some temporarily latent response, a sort of muscle memory of the rhythm, a physical desire so strong it was almost a need. Waylon's lungs contracted and he made a squeaking sort of noise in desperation. Eddie pushed against his entrance a second time, not quite penetrating him, and knowing very well how cruel he was being.

“What do you want?” Eddie murmured, with a tantalizing lick of his lips.

“Oh, you know what I want.” Waylon panted. His mouth felt dry, his lungs over-worked, his legs twitching as every fiber of his being focused on the sole purpose of getting Eddie back inside him.

“Actually, I'm afraid I've forgotten.” Eddie replied nonchalantly, giving Waylon's entrance one final prod. He casually undid his bowtie, and Waylon didn't at all pay attention to how quickly the buttons on his vest and his shirt came undone, and how swiftly they were discarded. He could hardly stand to let his eyes take in all of Eddie's gorgeous, hulking, beautifully-toned flesh.

“Ahh, h-ha...I...” Waylon gasped, his tongue fluttering as speech failed him. “I want _more_.” He pleaded, gritting his teeth. “I want you...N-no, I _need_ you, inside me.” Eddie uttered a low, contented purr.

He tightened his grip on Waylon's hips, rocking them upwards, and shoved back into Waylon's delicate, desperate body. A loud, feminine cry, a wordless exclamation of pleasure, tore itself forcibly from somewhere deep in Waylon's chest.

“Oh, yes, Eddie!” Waylon exclaimed. He sank his nails into his palms, wishing with abandon that his hands were free. He supposed that was the point of tying his hands up in the first place, to augment his helplessness, deprive him of control.

“Hmm, you little slut.” Eddie chuckled. He began with a few slow, even thrusts, gradually re-adjusting Waylon's body to accommodating his huge cock.

“Yeah, yeah...I'm a slut.” Waylon whined. “I'm a slut. I'm _your_ slut.” He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

He knew what he was doing, just as well as Eddie did. Appealing to the things he knew Eddie would enjoy, trying to ignite irresistible little sparks of pleasure.

“Yes, you are.” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He thrust his hips into a sudden, abruptly deep shove, which made Waylon's core burn. “You're my dear little slut.” He half-snarled. Waylon locked his jaw, leaning into another deep, grinding thrust.

“Come on, big boy.” Waylon urged. “Ahh, faster. Harder, love, _harder_.”

“Naughty, naughty, darling.” Eddie scolded, thumbing playfully at Waylon's chin. “You know how I _loathe_ being commanded. Now, if you want something...” He raised his eyebrows expectantly, eyes flashing with sadistic humor.

“Ask nicely.” Waylon finished. He followed with a discontented grunt, shifting his weight on his shoulders.

“There we go.” Eddie laughed deviously. “Good girl.” He added, ruffling Waylon's hair.

“Eddie, will you please...” Waylon panted. “Please fuck me harder, dear.”

“Oh, now how could I resist?” Eddie purred, every strong thrust of his hips sending a jolt straight up into Waylon's aching cock.

The most torturous thing about it was how desperately he wanted to touch himself, the way his cock cried through his nerves for attention, lapsing against the shifting waves of his skirt. Eddie's shortened nails were making dents in his skin, holding Waylon's hips steady while he pounded into him.

“Ohh, yes, that's it.” Waylon squealed, the rope grating into his wrists. “Right there, that's the spot.”

“Is it, now?” Eddie taunted. He knew it was. He could've found it without any input from Waylon, but any chance to tease him was not to be passed up. Eddie mustered a few short, sharp pushes, observing Waylon's reaction. “Ooh, that _is_ the good spot.” He noted, feeling Waylon tense around him and watching him grit his teeth.

“Eddie, I, ahh...I need you to...” Waylon stammered, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“Yes, dear?” Eddie prompted, leaning in just a bit deeper. Waylon thought about having every inch of Eddie's massive, throbbing member and immediately lost his weak train of thought.

“I need you to touch me.” Waylon gasped, barely aware of the fact that he was speaking at all. Eddie rubbed Waylon's inner thigh again, abrasively this time, sliding it closer to Waylon's member. He gently wrapped his fingers around Waylon's ballsack, utterly teasing him. It felt good, and it was so painfully close to what he wanted, but it _wasn't_ what he wanted.

He knew that trying to push himself into Eddie's hands would just get him another lecture about patience, which would end up delaying it for even longer.

Patience. Waylon sank his teeth into his lip to keep himself silent, because he would have screamed if he left his mouth open.

Eddie pressed his thumb at the base of Waylon's cock, as though testing his pulse. Waylon's mouth wrenched itself open and he swore loudly and gruesomely.

“How vulgar.” Eddie scoffed. He hesitated, keeping his thumb stationary, curled around Waylon's shaft. He kept thrusting his hips, urging his long, thick cock in just a little bit further every time.

“I'm...s-sorry.” Waylon choked. “I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to. _Please_ , Eddie.” He whined like a stricken dog and threw his head back. “Please, please. Just do it. Ohhhoh, come on, I'm _hurting_ here.”

“You _desperate_ ,” Eddie groaned, wrapping the rest of his fingers around Waylon's member. “ _sniveling_ ,” He spat, pulling harshly on Waylon's cock. “gorgeous little _whore_.” He coughed the word 'whore' in the same way a wolf growls one last time as it feels the pulse in its prey's neck cease. Waylon felt it like a knife running up his spine, splitting his flesh for skinning.

Waylon's tongue lolled out of his mouth. He felt sparks snapping in his nerves, his auxiliary thoughts melting away like residual wax from a dying candle. Eddie was unraveling him with one hand. “Fuck...” He whispered, so quietly it was barely more than a thought. “F-fuck...”

“Oh, you like that.” Eddie declared. He rubbed his thumb against the underside of Waylon's cock, slowing his strokes to offer him slightly more precise pleasure. Waylon cracked his eyes open, blinking slowly.

“Eddie, I love you.” Waylon murmured, chest swelling gradually.

“You know I love you too.” Eddie replied. He leaned down again, kissing Waylon with fervent adoration.

Waylon could feel himself cresting rapidly towards orgasm, despite how he tried to hold it back. He wanted to come, already, all that stifling catching up to him in mere moments. His skirt bounced to the rhythm of Eddie's thrusts, which still shocked his entire body.

“Eddie...let me come.” Waylon panted, grinding his teeth as they parted. His blush was a deep scarlet hue now, spreading from his face clear down through his shoulders. He felt water pool at the corners of his eyes, cascading from his eyelids and down over his cheeks. He'd almost forgotten that he had a scratch on his face until he felt saline tears run into it.

“You don't need my permission, darling.” Eddie purred, kissing Waylon for no more than a moment. Waylon could barely even reciprocate. Eddie arched his back, immersing himself completely inside Waylon's tight, wanton ass. Waylon made a broken, indistinct sound, his fists balled so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Eddie stroked Waylon's cock slowly and smoothly, increasing his pace once he saw how eager Waylon was to come. Waylon curled his toes, his legs shaking, and stretched his arms as far as he could.

“Eddie...Eddie, I'm g-going to come.” Waylon wheezed loudly.

“Go on, then.” Eddie urged, furthering his encouragement by pushing his full length in again. Waylon came suddenly, jolted into his climax by the power of Eddie's swift, deep thrusts. His back arched into an acute curve, his eyes slammed shut, and his hips buckled into nothing. Eddie kept his hand on Waylon's member as his partner came, his fingers taking most of Waylon's seed, keeping it off of his pristine skirt.

Waylon couldn't regain himself. He'd finally learned the meaning of ' _fuck me senseless_ ' by being fucked senseless. The only thing he could do was keep his eyes closed and mutter “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” under his breath. He could still feel Eddie pushing into his body, even as he slowed down for a moment to give Waylon a chance to come down a little. Waylon finally managed to open his eyes, groaning something that sounded like it was originally meant to be a word.

“Are you alright, darling?” Eddie asked, gently stroking the side of Waylon's neck.

“Ohh, shit.” Waylon moaned. “Fuck, I can't...” He heaved a deep, melodious sigh.

“Was that a little too much for you, darling?” Eddie continued, now rubbing Waylon's ear.

“I...I came so damn hard...” Waylon whispered. He finally relaxed his clenched fists, his wrists sore and stiff. Eddie smiled down at him, a familiar dreamy look in his eyes. He parted his lips slightly, as though he was about to speak, but second-guessing himself. “Go on, say it.” Waylon chuckled.

“What is it that I'm supposed to be saying?”

“You always tell me I'm beautiful when I come.” Waylon replied. Eddie chuckled back at him and brushed Waylon's shaggy hair back.

“You _are_ beautiful when you come.” He stated. He kissed Waylon's forehead softly, accompanying it with a deep-but-slow push, trying to get Waylon back into adjustment until he finished.

But Eddie, Eddie was just as beautiful before he came. He bit at his lip in the most lovely and adorable way possible, he licked his lips in satisfaction. Wisps of hair parted from his sleek undercut and strayed in front of his face, brushing in every direction. He squared his shoulders and the steady pound of his hips seemed to leave an echo rippling through Waylon's entire form. Every time he inhaled, his chest swelled to twice its size. He leaned himself fully over Waylon, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow. He buckled Waylon's hips up and nearly curled him over himself.

“C'mon, baby, you can do it.” Waylon encouraged sweetly, pressing his forehead against Eddie's. “Keep going, keep going. You're almost there.” Eddie breathed a soft, restrained sigh, not even still willing to reprimand him. He was still shoving into Waylon with every ounce of his strength and every last inch of his gorgeous sex. Waylon could see sweat glisten on Eddie's pale, smooth skin, highlighting the convexes of his muscles.

“Waylon, darling...” Eddie panted heavily. He braced his hands against the floor, arching his back and swelling his shoulders into a mountainous shape. “I'm...I'm about to come, dear.” He half-warned, chewing on his lip in that beautiful, beautiful way. Waylon closed his eyes again, awaiting the sweet sensation of Eddie coming inside him. Oh, if he hadn't been so far beyond spent already, it might have made him come again. But, of course, he always thought that. Eddie just always did a perfect job of wearing Waylon out to the point where he couldn't have come again if he wanted to.

“Waylon!” Eddie cried, thumping the heels of his palms against the floor. He shoved viciously and rapidly into Waylon's limp body, coming like he was furious at some unknown entity. Waylon trembled when he felt it, the heat, the strength, the thrum of Eddie's breath against Waylon's taut skin.

Eddie panted harshly, the sound reverberating off the walls of his throat. His eyes locked with Waylon's, and he ran his hands up along Waylon's sensitive flanks. After a moment, he realized that Waylon's hands were still bound, and hastily untied him.

Waylon rubbed his wrists, glad to have them free again. He supported himself on his arms, getting his upper back off the floor. Eddie wrapped his arms around Waylon and pulled him close, nuzzling his neck and still breathing raggedly.

“Waylon, darling...” He sighed softly, placing a delicate kiss on Waylon's neck, feeling his pulse race beneath his lips. “You're such a good girl.”

Waylon giggled childishly, running his fingers through Eddie's hair. Eddie lifted his head, examining Waylon's face. He inspected the area around his cut, touching his fingertips to it.

“I shouldn't have done that.” He pronounced.

“Oh, it's barely a scratch.” Waylon dismissed. “It'll heal right up. I wasn't scared that you were actually going to hurt me.”

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” Eddie asked, giving Waylon a quick, serious once-over.

“Well, I don't think I'm going to be able to sit for a week.” Waylon teased. “And I'm certainly not going to be walking right tomorrow morning, but that's nothing new.” He smiled a lusty, satisfied smile.

“Of course not.” Eddie spat playfully. He chuckled at the back of his throat and nuzzled Waylon again, rubbing his legs reassuringly. They kissed again, softly and gently, embracing each other in the afterglow.

“I think you wore me out, dear.” Waylon sighed, blinking wearily. Eddie rolled over, laying Waylon half on top of him. “Oh, please, Eddie. I'm filthy.” Waylon protested, rolling his skirt up a little more.

“Don't worry about it.” Eddie declared, wrapping his arms tightly around Waylon. “Just forget about it for a moment, darling.” Waylon could have fallen asleep in Eddie's arms, his big, strong arms, with his head cradled against his chest. He told himself he wouldn't, he needed to at least clean himself off, but he was so exhausted and spent that his eyes wanted to be closed as much as possible, his muscles relaxed and he fell asleep before he'd even climbed out of Eddie's arms.


End file.
